Caleb shifted his stance, directing his focus on Ona.  This was a passive aggressive move; just short of giving Lucien a backside view of his behind.

Caleb said...

"Ona...I’d like to talk to you alone.  Could you please ask your visitor to give us a moment of privacy.”

The word ‘diplomatic’ beamed in his brain but she’d not been fooled by his Machiavellian maneuver.  Ona returned his gaze, and he could see the gears in her wheelhouse turning.  She was trying to figure out what was best in this situation.  Caleb imagined a rat pointlessly struggling to free itself on a glue trap.  He turned, adjusting his focus on the other faces in the room.  In his head, he could hear a repeating chorus; words suggesting that he notify his parents.  He didn’t want to accept that he'd been beat.

The emotional tone in the room was off the scale and Rachel sensed Caleb’s sour mood.  She also noticed Ona’s pleading eyes; a gaze that was begging her brother to hold it together.  She’d seen this before; siblings could communicate mountains of information without exchanging one word.  By the look of their strained faces, she could see that they were communicating nonverbally.  Even though an exchange was occurring, she stepped in Caleb’s line of sight; blocking out Ona and Lucien.  There was a lot at stake here, and she wanted to say something that would keep everyone on point.

Rachel said...

"Do you remember our conversation?"

This was a risk and she hoped that she would be forgiven.  She didn’t want to throw him under the bus--but she also needed to say something that would stop the bullshit.  Unfortunately, Rachel’s question had a broader stroke than she’d intended and Caleb had not been her only canvas.  A feeling of question had whitewashed Ona and Lucien as well.  Yet, in spite of her daring outburst; her ‘stop the bullshitting’ question had worked.  Caleb looked at his sister recalling how he’d felt before talking to Rachel.  The beautiful nurse had resurrected his hope, and she was the reason he didn’t have to tell his sister about his failures at the Conclave and the possibility of her project funds being revoked.  That had been hours ago, but the disappointment served as a sobering reminder.  He would bend; that’s what he told himself.  He would accept Rachel’s help--but Lucien Delors...  Now that was something he’d need to discuss with Ona--alone.

Caleb spoke in earnest to his sister

"Rachel told me that she and her friends want to help you...”

Ona replied....

“Rachel and Lucien.”

He didn’t like that she’d referred to Lucien, leaving out his surname--but for now, he would let that pass.  However...this issue of Lucien Delors...

Caleb said...

“Ona...if you don't mind, I'd like to talk to you alone.”

Ona was harmonious by nature, but she had a stubborn streak that ran a mile long.  He had hoped that being ill, and weakened by the accident; perhaps some of her determination might have mellowed out.  How foolish he’d been to imagine this.

Ona sat as far forward as her cast would allow.  Her eyes narrowed when she said...

“Caleb...do you have good news for me?  Were you successful in finding artist in the categories that I had listed?”

Long seconds passed, and when he didn’t respond, she said...

“We need them Caleb...and don’t forget; working with people outside of our community is a part of my project.  I cannot complete my project without the aid of artist, writers, singers, musicians and the like.  And Caleb...these good people are offering their help.”

That wasn’t up for debate; he knew and accepted this.  Caleb wanted to be sure that Ona understood the pros and cons that often times are serendipitous.  She might think that she’s in control--but in fact, ‘happenstance’ would be in total control.

Lucien couldn’t bare witnessing the standoff between siblings, so he made this easy for them...

“Rachel...let’s give them some privacy.”

He didn’t wait for a response.  Instead, he crossed the room, and he stopped, allowing her to exit first.  When they both were on the other side of the door; he closed it, giving them their privacy.

Ona blurted out...

“That was rude Caleb.  Those people are trying to help me...and it would appear by your empty hands; I am in need of their help.”

She was right, but he wouldn’t sugarcoat his objection.

“Ona...I am not the villain here; so stop pointing out my flaws.”

“I’m sorry if I offended you.  But Caleb...”

He held up his hand, and she stopped talking...

“Sister...calm down.  I don’t want you to concern yourself over my feelings.  And yes...my hands are empty.  Also...since it would appear that Rachel will be of tremendous help to you; I see no need to withhold the facts.  There was talk at the Conclave concerning your project.  If you wish to keep your funding, you’ll have to enact your plan.”

“Don’t you think I know that.  And with Rachel’s help, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing.”

“I understand Rachel’s involvement, but I do not understand why you must involve Lucien Delors.”

“He has offered one of his buildings to house the project.”

Ah hah; so that explains a lot.  Securing a location had been at the top of Ona’s list--and he’d bombed out on that as well.  He sighed heavily, but his concentration was broken when she said...

“What’s your real objection Caleb...be truthful.”

He blurted out...

“That man.”

“Who?  Lucien?”

“Yes.  And why do you insist on calling him by his first name only?”

“He asked me to.  He said that...he would prefer that I call him by his first name.”

Caleb was pacing the room, and before his return, she’d had good news to share with him.  She supposed that now was as good a time as any to share it.

“Dr. Stone came by this morning.  She said that my x-rays look good and that if all goes well, I should be well enough to go home next week.”

Caleb’s eyes brightened when he said...

“So soon?  Are they sure they aren’t hurrying things?”

What a change in moods, she thought to herself.  She’d been unconscious during the tug-of-war between the hospital and the Conclave.  From the beginning, it had been decided that she would remain at Lincoln Medical, until she’d fully recovered.  Rachel had told her how angry Caleb had been when he expressed to the doctors that they were to notify the Samaritan Conclave the moment his sister was stable enough for a transfer.  He was her brother, and he loved her but oh, what a difference a few months had made.

Ona said...

“I’m getting better Caleb and my doctors now say that there’s no reason to keep me here until all of my castings come off.  When I go home, my left leg will be fitted with a walking cast.  I’ll be able to get around, and I’ll still have to rest, and keep my casted leg elevated; but, as long as I follow these rules, it will be safe for me to work.  Now do you understand how crucial it is that I accept Rachel and Lucien Delors help.”

He noticed the use of first and last name, when she referred to Lucien.

“I don’t think the Conclave is aware of this.  Had they known, I don’t think they would have been so insistent that I call mom and dad.”

“The council members wanted you to call our parents?”

Oh boy; he’d done it now.  That part of the story had slipped out and he’d not intended to tell her.  Oh well, he thought.

“Ona...today has been a nightmare of gargantuan proportions...and right now, I’d like to grab hold to whatever morsel of hope that can be offered.  And...I guess my hope lies in you and your nurse Rachel.”

Ona wanted to hear more about the council but she knew how best to deal with her brother.  She had to strike while the iron was hot.

“Caleb...don’t worry.  Believe it or not--everything will workout as I’d planned.  Being in the hospital has put me behind schedule, but I’ll make up for that, as soon as I’m free of these cast, and getting around much better.”